


Double Blind

by fabricdragon



Series: Fake Relationship Shuffle [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: 007fest2018, AO3 FB Challenge, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Glasses, Human Trafficking, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ownership, TeamBondVillain, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-06-04 20:27:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15155006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabricdragon/pseuds/fabricdragon
Summary: the Quartermaster was kidnapped and sold... but its a BIT more compiclated than that, since he was sold to Alec Trevalyan aka Janus.





	1. sold to the gentleman in the back

Q was terrified. They’d taken away his equipment, even his glasses, and all he could do was peer myopically around the room.  Unlike prior kidnapping attempts these people were professionals: they handled him gently enough to avoid damage, but without giving him the slightest chance of escape.

Not for the first time he wished he’d set up Smart Blood Tracking on himself.

“Quartermaster?” The presumably female blur said.

“Would it help if I denied it?”

“No. which of these can you take?” they rattled off a choice of sedatives.

“Why…?”

“I understand you dislike planes.”

His eyes widened, “Oh! Err, yes, well… in that case all of them.”

“Any of them?”

“No, no all of them.  Planes are bad enough when I have a chance in hell of surviving a malfunction, but like this?” Q felt himself starting to hyperventilate and tried very hard to calm down.

Shortly thereafter the presumably male blur gave him pills and a cup of water: from the sound of it he was surprised that Q took them.  By the time they loaded him on the plane Q no longer cared.

…

Since the pills worked they kept giving them to him.  blurs came and went and he threw up on someone once and he had a delightful sing along with another blur that knew Tom Lehrer songs. The next time he was even mildly coherent he was at some kind of auction.

“And the prize of our collection: the Quartermaster of MI6”

Q giggled and slumped on the feet of one of the taller blurs.

“Are you certain? He doesn’t look…” a very heavily accented voice.

“We decided that keeping him compliant  in transport was preferable, given his skills.” One of the familiar voices said. “we start the bidding at–” 

Q wasn’t sure what they said because he was singing by then, “A mark, a yen, a buck or a pound…”  he was pretty sure he heard laughter and then one of the blurs put a hand over his mouth.

“No, no, let him sing,” an amused voice–Russian?– said, “He’s not bad.” And then bid a rather appalling amount of money. “At least I get entertainment too.”

Bidding went back and forth, not just money but information and favors and blackmail holds. By that point Q was lying  miserably in a heap as the drugs started to come down.

Someone tilted his head up. “Can he see?” It was the Russian accented fellow who liked his voice.

“Only at close range, sir, and certainly not while drugged.” One of the usual Blurs said, “But we verified his prescription before disposing of his glasses.  It should be simple enough to fill.”

“Good. I’ll want some of the drugs you’ve been giving him as well.”

He was picked up and bundled into something like a blanket and taken through biting cold… not outside though, a garage maybe? And put in the backseat of a car–a big car.

“I hope you don’t actually expect me to sing.” He mumbled blearily.

“You’re adorable.”  Said the fair haired blur with the Russian accent.  The car started moving

“I’m drugged out of my head and coming down.  I’ll probably puke on you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want that. How much do they normally give you?”

“Two white pills and one… pink?”

The man muttered something unhappy sounding and there were pills rattling. “I’m giving you ONE white pill and a pink pill–we need to start weaning you off them.”

Q took the pills, no point in making it worse on himself. “So I assume I’ve been sold to you… you know who I am, who are you?”

“Call me Janus.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q wakes up, and his owner has interests beyond his coding skills...  
> (CW for canon typical dub con)

Janus?  The name echoed in a familiar way in Q’s mind, but he couldn’t place it from the drugs.  He dozed off; bundled in a blanket with the man’s hand stroking his hair… it was nice.

When he woke up he was in a very comfortable bed.  He tried to take stock… _was I in a shower?  Well, I’d been cleaned up, but my hair felt greasy so it wasn’t washed… and it’s dry, so it’s been a bit_.  He slowly stretched and rolled over… _big bed, very big bed… and… I’m still nude, and… collar?_   His hand came up… hard leather.

“You are finally awake? Good.  No matter the drugs they gave you I do not think you slept much.”  The Russian accented voice of his… _oh god, he’d actually been sold..._

“you… you bought me?”

“Yes.  You were rather expensive: I’m not sure if the singing raised or lowered the price…” he sounded very amused.

Q brought a hand up over his face by reflex, “I had hoped that was a hallucination.” He tried to pull himself together. “Janus?”

“That is as I am called, yes, and how do I call you?”

“Q,” he sighed, “unless you have something you prefer.”

“Q, then. Tea?”

“GOD yes.”

He was carefully handed a cup, the man–his hands were huge, and calloused in a way that reminded Q of Bond– folded his fingers around the cup carefully. Q sipped at the tea–Russian style tea, it was good though– and tried to consider: he wasn’t damaged, yet, and his owner didn’t seem unkind, yet… _but he was going to want me to work and when I refuse?_

He could hear him doing something on the other side of the room when he finished his tea.

“Not to trouble you or anything, but… is there a bathroom?”

There was brief  swearing in Russian–it didn’t sound like he was going to be hit or anything, more like ‘oh hell I forgot to let the dog out’– and then the large calloused hand was on his elbow. He wasn’t left alone, not that he really expected to be, but the big blur was polite.

He was a fairly LARGE blur at that.

When he was ready to leave the room, the man turned on the shower instead. “I washed you off, but I had no time for my own shower, and I had to be careful not to drown you–so since you can stand…” he unbuckled the collar. “Tcht… that doesn’t work for you, its leaving a mark.” He drew a finger over Q’s neck and Q started to shiver.

This… this would be fine, if … if he’d chosen this–it might not even be that bad if he could see…

He could hear the man toss the collar away somewhere.  He was guided into the shower and Janus pressed him into the wall: Q tried to be stoic about it, but he was pretty certain he was failing.

“There, there little bird… I won’t hurt you….” Janus was saying quietly and stroking over his shoulders.

“I… wasn’t aware I was a bird.” Q fell back on his usual tone and raised eyebrow.  _Of course it never dissuaded Bond so why would it help now… in fact it might make him angry…_

“What would you like to be?” Janus chuckled and maneuvered him under the spray.

“Home?”

“That’s where, not what.” the man’s voice was a rumble as he… washed Q.  _It made sense, I suppose… I can’t see…_

“Then I suppose I’m a cat.”

“Certainly kotyonok.”

“What? Wait, that’s the word for cat?”

“Kitten.”

Q’s reflexes hit before his self-preservation kicked in, “I am most certainly NOT a kitten, least of all YOURS!” and then he winced, waiting for the blow.

Instead Janus laughed. “Oh ho… now there are a few claws…”

He leaned in, “Have you been with a man before, kotyonok?” his voice was demanding and seductive and if this was another time or another place…

Q clenched his jaw, “As it happens, yes, and if you were a voluntary association I might even be interested, but–”

He cut off as Janus tangled his fingers in his hair and pulled him into a kiss.  _God DAMN my hair pulling kink…_ he should have cut his hair short, should have… _he knew how to kiss me too… just a hair rough and utterly possessive and oh HELL why did it have to be someone like this_ … he tried to imagine it was Bond… but he knew from watching the videos that this wasn’t quite Bond’s style…

Q whimpered into his lips and tried not to respond.

“I might almost think you LIKED me, Kitten.” Janus’ voice rumbled in his ear.

“You… you happen to fit… my... type, that’s all…” Q was gasping. _It’s a survival mechanism_ , Q reminded himself, _submit and maybe he will be kind, and not hurt you… that’s ALL it is._

Janus went to suck at his neck on the other side–bruising and marking and Q was only standing up because he held him up.  Fear and sex were making a complete hash of his thinking.

“The collar was bugged.” Janus said quietly into his ear, just before he pulled his hair and consumed him in another kiss.

 _Wait… collar? Bugged?_ He threw it aside… Q managed to tap against the man’s shoulders–and how had his hands gotten there?– in Morse code: “Morse?”

“Just surrender, Q” Janus growled into his throat as he placed more marks, but… his one hand that had slid down his back was tapping back: three long presses, three long presses, press and four taps… _Oh, Oh, Six?_

Q felt hope burn its way up like damn fireworks and he moaned into the man.

“Just… it’s been years…” Q managed to gasp.  It had certainly been years for penetration and that’s what seemed likely to happen if the finger at his entrance was any clue.

His collar was bugged? If Janus was telling the truth, then despite the fact that he bought me we were being watched.  IF he was telling the truth…

Janus moved his hand away. “Years?  A beautiful man like you?”  Janus said, and then Q heard a cap click.

“It’s… difficult to… find time… or… cleared partners.” _Dear GOD this man’s mouth was devastating_.

A slick finger– _ah the click had been a lubrication bottle_ – breached him gently, but the man’s fingers were large… he pulled Q’s hair again and Q moaned despite himself.

“We will have to move this to the bed, then, I wouldn’t want to damage you…” Janus said and then leaned into him closely and breathed into his ear, “Can you go through with this, Quartermaster? I can invent a reason to stop if needed…”

Q thought about it, freezing and looking up into his face.  At this range he could see–well enough–green eyes looking concerned and a scarred face.

He swallowed, “If… if you…please…” he closed his eyes and tried to trust:  either he was on my side, or he wasn’t, but either way it was…potentially a comfort. “I trust you…just… be careful…” _telling any double oh to be careful… what the Hell am I thinking?_

“Oh Christ,” he said in his perfectly normal voice, “Please tell me you don’t break equipment like the lot I deal with–I’ll die.”

Janus startled and stared down at him and cracked up, laughing and leaning into him until Q was pressed heavily into the shower wall.  The man was biting his lip…

“You’re adorable.” He finally said pulling Q out of the shower and towel drying him.  Then very quietly into his ear, “Do I take it you’ve met James?”

Q couldn’t stop the groan that escaped him; he could only hope it sounded more like sex than disgruntled Quartermaster.

When the man pulled him in close and half carried him to the bed, Q hissed, “He returned a car in one piece alright–a steering wheel!” in his ear.

Janus dropped him onto the bed and fell on top of him. To anyone else it might have looked like a sexual assault but in truth the man was trying to stifle his laughter and using Q’s neck and shoulder to do it.

When he pulled himself together he pushed up on his arms, hanging over Q–he was quite large, and it was fairly intimidating. Q began to be grateful he couldn’t see anything but a blur past the man’s face.

“All of those spies and none of them took care of you, Kitten?”

Q glared up at him, “It would be DRASTICALLY inappropriate!”

“Never stopped some people.” The subtext of ‘like Bond’ was clear.

 _Bond, Bond and his endless flirting just because he wanted something out of me…_ Q actually sagged, “No one… the agents all flirt–it’s just what they do– but they only want things, none of them… no one… ever…wanted me.” Q realized he was crying suddenly and tried to pull himself together…

…but the stress and the drugs and the fear and the loneliness finally couldn’t be shut down and he ended up sobbing in his owner’s arms.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How far can you trust?

Q was sobbing, struggling to regain his control and failing.  The added humiliation of coming apart in front of anyone–much less potentially an agent, and certainly his owner– was setting up a vicious cycle of collapse.

Hands moved over him, calloused and careful and knowing exactly what they were doing… until his breathing came back to normal and he was shuddering against the man for other reasons.

Janus nudged his head back and sucked and bit at his neck, pulling his hair and doing… obscene things with his hands, whenever Q showed signs of coherence.

“That’s a better collar, Kitten.”

Q tried to ask what he meant but his hand was moving insistently against Q’s cock, and _DAMN the man knew exactly what to do._ The now familiar click of the lubrication cap, and those large fingers probing…

Q had conflicting sensations: panic and a strange sense of safety, a stranger’s fingers breaching him, but feeling so very good… “God…” Q tried to push the man away, even as his body tried to move into him.

“Years, you say? Poor Kitten… No one to treat you properly… and you so… responsive…” Janus growled and his fingers hit just the right spot and Q was arching into him with a strangled cry. Then he felt the man, and he was reminded of the blessing and curse of his lack of glasses: he felt huge–he probably wasn’t that… it had just been… Q found himself crying out at the intrusion and the burn and the stretch….

Janus covered Q‘s cry with his mouth and pulled his head back until he was arched like a bow… his hands were clawing at the man’s back without thinking and then as his muscles relaxed and… Q moaned as the familiar sensation of pain melting into pleasure twisted his brain.

 _It hurt, it was wonderful, Janus was so strong he could break me in two, he was just on the right side of too rough…_ Q felt himself sinking into his body only to have the sharp sensation of each thrust bring him back.

“Sing for me, Q, I like this song better…” Janus growled at him and an arm was around his back and ass pulling him in tight, pulling him in until he was even deeper…and his head was pulled back by his hair and his lips were being bruised and his jaw bitten and he felt the man thrust in impossibly deep and his arm tightened around Q until he almost couldn’t breathe…

In the peculiar clarity of the post orgasmic drift Q realized that the faint hypoxia had finally sent him over the edge. Janus was handling his limply spasming body with care as he came down from what was unquestionably expert handling. 

“The Kitten definitely has claws,” Janus rumbled in a pleasant tone, “but I don’t mind…”

Q couldn’t quite bring himself up enough to speak, enjoying the last aftershocks of his orgasm and the endorphins.  Janus pulled him in close in the bed and he was helplessly caged against a warm chest in strong arms. _I hadn’t realized I had a strength kink… I guess I do now…_

“I must admit I enjoyed myself immensely, Kotyonok: you seemed to enjoy it as well.”

Q spoke quietly into his shoulder, “Yes, but I still want to go home.”

“We will try, little Kitten, it’s complicated.”

“Of course it is, you apparently know James.” Q muttered.

Janus effortlessly moved him into a better position on the bed, “Another thing that is complicated,” he agreed. His voice was a breath against Q’s ear as he did things to Q’s neck.  Q found himself arching into it, and frustrated that his arms were pinned.

Before he could say or do anything else there was a sharp knocking noise.  Janus rolled partly off of him and transferred his grip until Q’s wrists were held. “Come!”

Light and shadow moved and a figure came up near the bed, “well, you seem to have him well in hand, although you might want to treat those scratches…” Q heard the woman’s voice and the viciousness and anger under that amused tone and shivered.

“Did you get his glasses?” Janus voice was casual, but his fingers pressed Morse for ‘No’ against Q’s  wrist.

“Yes, sir, of course.” And then a pair of glasses were settling onto his face and the world snapped into clarity–with a bit of the normal dizzying effect of a different pair of lenses.

Q tried to take it all in as fast as possible while maintaining a baffled and bewildered expression.  The room was luxurious, but empty, nothing personal about it at all–not even the paste personality of a luxury hotel. The woman was dressed in something that might have been called business clothes, but had been cut too tight, and too short, and her gun printed through her clothes.  She had the sort of plastic prettiness that came with too much surgery and too much make up, and her smile never touched her eyes.

Janus… Janus was indeed as large a man as he thought–Q forced his eyes from tracking down the man’s body– with scarring on his face and a crooked smile that spelled trouble, and _oh GOD he was even more my type than I imagined_ , and he lay naked in bed with the peculiarly leonine grace that he’d only ever seen on Bond…

Q shook his head sadly and lied, “They didn’t get the astigmatism right.  I can see better with them than without, but… I won’t be able to wear these long.”

“What?” the woman snapped, “They were made to the specifications!”

Q sighed and closed his eyes, “Can you get these off, please? I’ll get a migraine soon if I keep wearing them.” Janus gently took them off his face and he went back to the blurry world, “it’s a tricky prescription.  Even in person I have often had to have it re-done.” That had the benefit of being true.

“Well, then in the morning we will just have to take my new Kitten out and get him properly collared and a new pair of glasses…”

“Why isn’t he wearing the collar you had?”

“It was leaving a mark, he needs a softer collar,” Janus smiled and Q could hear it in his voice as he ran one finger lightly over Q’s throat, “or perhaps a well fitted metal one? I will see when we go shopping what suits him… you can take the old collar away, Nia, and the glasses.”

“I should leave the glasses–they are better than nothing–” she began but Janus cut her off.

“And let my Kitten get up in the middle of the night with ideas?  Oh no… not until I get him a proper leash and collar: take them out.”

“Yes, sir.”

Q was trying to stay calm, but once again the mixed sensations of a strong handsome man holding him  down, a man he desperately wanted to trust, combined with the blindness, the lack of control, and that woman… _she is a threat_ … he bit his lip and started going over  equations in his head until she left.

Janus rolled back on top of him and began working him over with his hands again. “She’s gone, and hopefully the bugs,” he said in between covering his neck with marks, “but I can’t be sure.”

“I really am quite blind without my glasses,” Q said shakily, as his body kept betraying his interest.

“You don’t need to see anything.” Janus chuckled, “not yet anyway.  Now if you can keep your claws sheathed… and you behave a bit… it will be nicer for you… for that matter…” and Q found himself rolled over and moved as though he were a rag doll.

Janus  pulled him up to his knees, Q could feel him up against his ass, and then Janus was pulling his head back by his hair– _Damn it_!– and whispering in his ear, “You did seem to enjoy it, and I would like very much to watch you this time.”

Q’s eyes blinked open and he realized there was… “Is that a mirror?” he saw the reflection and realized… _yes it was_ , and Janus was holding him up on his knees facing the mirror while… Q could imagine what it looked like and moaned.

His hand moved around and he chuckled, “Let’s hear you sing again…” and Q’s wrists were caged by one hand and then he was feeling…he widened his knees and tried to relax as Janus entered him again.  “You will be delightful in proper restraints, even if I think I hardly need them…”

Oh hell, not even in his worst nightmares had he imagined his fantasies and his kinks being turned into reality.  Bondage was enjoyable because you had a choice to hand over the power, actually being sold, actually being owned was horrible… but Janus was gentle, and he was damn good, and just Q’s type… and he did ask… and  it was confusing all those practiced signals  from when Q chose to play the submissive and not the dominant…

“If I asked you to stop, would you?” Q managed to ask shakily, even as his body was completely surrendering– _traitorous bastard._

“Maybe,” Janus chuckled and thrust–making Q gasp and almost see stars, “yes,” he whispered quietly into Q’s ear.

 _Yes. Yes he would stop_ … and the last resistance bled out of him, “Then I won’t ask…”

Janus growled cheerfully, like a lion’s rumble or a bear, and snapped his hips forward: Q almost shrieked, and then found himself twisting and barely stopping himself from begging.

Janus tightened his grip on Q’s cock for a moment, and in Q’s distraction Janus let go of his wrists and wrapped his arm around Q’s neck. Q’s hands came up by reflex, scrabbling at his arm, and then Janus tightened his grip just slightly and thrust.

Q threw his head back and cried out.

“I want to hear you, Kitten… you don’t get to come again until you beg for it…”

And anyone casually watching would have thought it was rape, seeing Q’s desperate face and his hands struggling against Janus’ arm, fighting for air, making desperate noises as he was fucked and held up facing the mirror….

While Q let go with the assurance that Janus would stop if he asked… he just had no intention of asking.

Q _was_ fighting for air, that was instinctual and his training  was to keep anyone from choking him, but his body was not taking conscious orders as shock after shock of pleasure hit him and Janus kept his airway just a tiny bit constrained, forcing Q to keep his head back  to breathe.  Sounds were pouring out of him and eventually, yes, he was begging…

Janus worked him with his hand and his body until he came, and then fucked him–sensitized and dazed and completely controlled–to his own climax.

Janus held him upright against his body and bit lightly at his shoulder, “oh yes… fine comfortable restraints, and leathers… the only thing I’ll have leaving a mark on you, is me…” Q couldn’t speak, could only gasp and shudder...

and he slipped from compliant subspace into sleep, waking only because he felt ill.  He managed to roll to the edge of the bed before what little he had in his stomach came back up.

“Hmmm?” Janus started speaking in what Q recognized as Russian but was well beyond his limited knowledge, and then, “… ah, withdrawal.  Stay there Kotyonok.”

Q had little choice, hanging miserably over the edge of the bed until Janus came back and gave him half a pink and half a white pill, water, and something like ginger ale.

When he could manage to speak again he pointed out, “I don’t know when the last time I ate was… probably not long before the auction.”

“Is there anything you cannot eat?”

“Can’t? Well I’m not allergic, but…”

Janus patted him on the back, “sip that. I’ll call for a clean-up and some breakfast.”

Q found that he missed the pleasant haze of the drugs, dulling his terror and keeping him from spinning increasingly bad scenarios of his likely end…

When the door opened again and Janus came back in accompanied by some smaller blurs, Q found himself cringing backwards into the bed.

“I thought this was some kind of computer genius?” an unfamiliar voice sneered.  _French?  The accent was faintly French._

Janus chuckled, “he is, when he can see…but lucky me he’s a good fuck, too.” and Janus pulled him free from the sheets and picked him up.

Q was trying to see, and unbalanced, and desperately grabbing at the bed sheets.  The sneering voice laughed, as did some other voices.

“Just clean it up and bring in some breakfast.” Janus ordered and carried Q back into the bathroom.

Not until the shower was running and the water was pouring over them both did Q say anything, “I’m sorry, it’s really very… unnerving... to see nothing but a blur.” He spoke quietly into Janus’ arm as he moved Q around in the shower.

“Just as well,” Janus answered equally quietly, “Your reactions have been more believable.  I didn’t hurt you, little Kitten, did I?”

Q chuckled quietly, “A little, but… it felt good.”

He felt Janus relax very slightly. “I suppose we have to work out a safe word… you do understand?”

“Yes, it’s been a long time, but yes.  Sadly I doubt any eavesdroppers would overlook my yelling aardvark?”

Janus tried to smother his laughter and ended up pressing Q into the tile again. “No, I don’t think so.” he said  in a normal voice as he turned off the shower, “We will be going out after breakfast and I will get you fitted with a proper set of  leathers and chains… and see if we can get you glasses that  you can actually see out of.”

“I… I won’t…MI6 knows I’m missing and my information must be nearly worthless by now….” Q didn’t have to fake the worry and tension in his voice, “But I am certain they would pay to get me back…”

“What?” Janus laughed and started drying him off, “Sell my little song bird? Never…”

Janus picked him up and carried him back into the bedroom, where a table had been set out with some kind of porridge, and tea.

“Oh thank Christ, Tea!”

“Have you HAD proper Russian tea?” Janus put Q down and made certain he knew where the spoon was– _and that was the only utensil, damn it._

“Once?  I don’t care what kind of tea it is by now…”

Q wrapped a sheet around himself and ate his–rather tasty actually– porridge and drank the blessed tea.  Janus ate his meal, which looked similar but added some kind of sausage; Q fought the faint nausea at the smell of it.

“I thought it took longer to get addicted.”

“It can happen very quickly, but I don’t know how long they had you, Kitten: long enough for word to spread, so…”

Q tried to think about it as Janus did something, moving around the room and finally coming back with a track suit that seemed like it was only a BIT too big for Q.  He scrambled into it as fast as he could, grateful for clothing.  Janus gave him socks and something like spa slippers.

“Now let’s get you something that fits!” he said cheerfully.

Q had felt a small hard spot in the clothing as he pulled it on. “I can tell it’s got a tracer in it, you know.” he said, not knowing if Janus knew or not.

Janus didn’t say anything, just pulled him to his feet and trotted him out of the room. Q cursed his inability to see, but the hallways looked very grey and featureless and he probably wouldn’t have seen much anyway.

He was moved past several cars and put in the back of one that seemed familiar…”Was I in this car?”

“Yes,” Janus patted him on the head and then pulled his head back by the hair and kissed him thoroughly, possessively–Q barely heard him murmur “the driver” before Janus was moving over him.

Q put up an ineffectual fight, shoving at Janus’ larger mass, and letting Janus pin his arms.  He spent an excruciating twenty minutes–his internal clock was slowly coming back online– with  Janus relentlessly teasing and playing with him, until he was a shivering  gasping wreck, before he was abruptly pulled out into the cold and hustled down a flight of stairs.

Janus pulled the clothes off him before he had a chance to do more than yelp, and handed them to some presumably female blur. He spoke in Russian again, and then in English to Q,

“Now, Kitten… let’s get you properly dressed, shall we?

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a shopping trip, and secrets

In short order Q was dressed again… if you could call it that. First he was fitted for a collar–two collars: one soft and one rather unsettlingly solid steel– and then he was rather rapidly dressed and undressed and dressed again.  To Q it was unsettling, since he was being treated more or less like a doll for them to play with and decorate.  After an outfit like latex, but a bit heavier and less smooth, he was re-dressed in something that seemed to be mostly decorative chains and some very fine silk.

“That’s more his style, I think…” Janus almost growled and Q could see his shape prowling around him–he shivered.

The other, smaller, blurs kept pulling clothing on and off of him, with comments from Janus here and there, until there was apparently a pile of rejected and approved ‘clothing’.  None of which was going to be conducive to going outside or anything, Q thought rather worriedly.

“If… If you expect me to do any actual work… I… will need… you know… clothes?”

“I’m tempted to say you don’t, but… I wouldn’t want anyone else getting ideas…” Janus said thoughtfully, “and I will probably need to take you out on occasion.” He laughed, “But my Kitten needs a few toys, yes?”

Janus–curse every spy for their observation skills– kept a hand on him as they  brought Janus an array of ‘toys’– it was obvious he was gauging Q’s reaction by muscle twitches and breathing, and probably his pupil dilation.  Most of what he bought was well within Q’s limits–interests even– but a few items were pushing it.

_If I ever get safely home I am staying in Q branch, and I will never, ever, set foot out of it again._

When Janus started to wrap a coat around him and take him back out dressed in a leather harness and a rather too open pair of silk pants, Q balked: Janus just scooped him up and carried him back to the car. He was quite grateful when something beeped and Janus gave him another dose of his pills: for a short while he could imagine he wasn’t terrified.

They got to someplace that had actual clothes–things made of real fabric and fastenings that didn’t latch or lock– but they didn’t make any comment about his state of undress when he was brought in.  Q ended up in a tug of war with the clerk who tried to get the sweater off of him, which Janus seemed to think was adorable.  They left there with a very limited selection of clothes, and headed off to get eyeglasses.

When Janus walked them in he quietly reminded Q that they were being watched, but that as long as he got light weight frames it should be safe enough.  Yes, it would be difficult to put anything into wire frames–God knows he’d had a whole tool kit in his plastic frames, curse his kidnappers for being professional.  
  
The doctor who gave him his eye exam was thorough and… honestly quite good… Q wasn’t following it all, but from what he could understand the doctor seemed to think the drugs might be affecting his eyesight temporarily, and that may explain the problem getting a good prescription.  Janus squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, so perhaps the doctor was alright?

After the nurse, or assistant, or clerk–whatever– left  the doctor asked, “Can you wear contact lenses?”  He spoke in clear if accented English–Q hadn’t thought he spoke any.

“Only for short periods of time, then… they get irritated.” Q answered truthfully, “But I haven’t really tried since school.”

The doctor  switched back to Russian and had what sounded like a rather rapid discussion with Janus–far too fast for him to follow much beyond the words disposable and hygiene–and then he was helped to put in contact lenses and he could see again.

Janus thanked the doctor and then the doctor stepped out.

“We have only minutes,” Janus said quietly. “Officially the contact lenses will only let you see at close range, such as for typing–you will be said to need the glasses otherwise.”

Q nodded, “I haven’t worn the disposables–they might do better, but I wasn’t lying about how long I could wear my old ones.”

“I will be insisting you keep some toys with you, for my convenience,” Janus lifted his chin and looked worriedly at him, “Keep a fresh pair of contacts in with that, for emergencies, understood?” Q nodded shakily, “I will sometimes take your glasses–as a means to control you, or keep you from seeing something…”

“… and if I can already see from contacts…” Q smiled and hugged him, “thank you.”

Janus flashed him a quirked smile, and drew a finger across his neck above the collar, “Forgive me if I don’t want to lose you too soon, Kotyonok.”

“I… wish we had met under different circumstances, but… aren’t you coming back to MI6 with me?”

“That… is not very likely.” Janus sighed, “I don’t have time here to explain…now to the immediate difficulty: I have a very important meeting I MUST go to, and I do not dare leave you alone.”

Q understood immediately, “I’m safer with you.”

“But it will be expected that… you are a valuable purchase, Q.”

Q bit his lip, “I won’t do anything to endanger England, or MI6 operatives.”

Janus considered and then, “There are a few annoyances of ours that are… officially English, except they are not.”

“What?”

“Will you trust me, Kitten?  There are some people embedded in government who are acting against English interests… perhaps against my Jameska directly… I have been wondering how to deal with them…”

Q smiled, “There are always traitors and moles to hunt down… but… it would look like I was cooperating…”

“It will be difficult– but I think it may be your only chance… and I would be very sad to see my old friend James die for no good reason.”

Q raised an eyebrow, “And for a good reason?”

Janus just smirked at him, “How else would he want to go?”

“I rather thought he would want to die in a beautiful woman’s bed, shot by a jealous husband.” Q sighed.

“That would be a mission.” Janus answered, and then the doctor came back with his glasses and several more contact lenses.

Janus pocketed the glasses case and Q left the contacts in, keeping his head down as he was led out to a car–there was a different car.  Janus got them both in and asked the driver about surveillance–some words Q knew in any language: the driver reported it to be all clear.  Janus, however didn’t speak to Q about anything of importance, and went back to running his hands over him, sliding his hands under the sweater and over the trousers… and finally up over the collar.

“A much better fit, even if I prefer to see your neck.” Janus said and then pulled Q’s hair and kissed him.

Q’s hands came up by reflex, but before he could do much more than that Janus laughed, “Well one toy will come in handy I think…” and in short order Q’s wrists were cuffed in soft leather, and locked together–in front of him at least– and a leash clipped onto his collar  again.

Q’s trousers and pants were pulled off–he tried to protest, his dignity demanded it at least– but he was casually pulled onto Janus’ lap… and then the bastard proceeded to tell the driver to take the long route home.

Q supposed it was intended to let him see some of the city and get his bearings, but he was altogether too good at what he did… and when they finally arrived back at their base Q was alternately snarling and whimpering from frustration.

Janus was leading him–back in his trousers thankfully– stumbling and hard and sweating through the grey hallways when the woman from earlier came up. Q was pushed down to his knees and Janus rather impatiently said, “{what is it now?}”

“{You have to leave for your meeting.}”

“{We have hours yet!}”

She shook her head–Q keeping her in his peripheral vision as best as he could now that he had any. “{V is impatient.}”

“{God damn it!}” Janus snarled, acting for all the world as though he hadn’t known this was likely, “{Fine!}” and he carefully pulled Q to his feet and turned them around. Q kept his head down and followed him.

She startled, “{Where are you going with him?  He should be locked in–}”

Janus stopped and turned, “What?” he said in English, “And miss the chance to show off my new songbird?”

“W-What?!” Q looked up, trying to keep his eyes a bit unfocused, “Show me off? I don’t–”

Janus pulled him in with his leash and with his other hand pulled his hair back.  Q was shaking and trembling in earnest–a combination of sexual frustration and fear– as Janus looked down at him from close range.

“I can be very, very, pleasant Kotyonok, but you will be shown off, or not, as I wish.”

“Y-Yes, Sir.” Q managed to choke out and then Janus leaned down and kissed him.  It wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t soft, it made it VERY clear that he was owned and _DAMN my kinks and his skill to hell and back_. He was rather effortlessly picked up, and held there, trembling, as Janus bit another bruise onto his skin– into his jawline this time.

“Good.  You do as I say and those are the only bruises you get, hmm?”

“Yes, sir.” Q shivered, and was put down, only to be tugged along after the man as they went back to the car–he didn’t even try to look back at the woman.

Back into the car, driving across the city with Janus’s hand idly running over him as he looked out the window, apparently deep in thought. Q memorized streets, turns and directions–probable locations for outside computer access as they drove.

 _He’s not telling me a lot, but_ …Q desperately wanted to trust him, but he’d seen agents manipulate people–they used what worked.  _If playing on my hopes worked, then this could be an act… but I don’t think it is?_   _Collapsing of laughter, disliking his own people intensely–not trusting them at all…_ Q thought back over their interactions: _no, he was genuinely trying to protect me, and… knew and liked Bond.   But he was still hiding something_.

Q suddenly realized why the buildings had thinned out and the roads looked so different. “Is that an airport?!” Q squeaked.

“Yes?”

“Oh no, no… hard pass, aardvark, no planes!” Q felt panic overwhelm him and a calm voice in the back of his mind realized the decreased drug dose was just enough to erode his control, and not enough to deal with the panic.

“{what?}” Janus held his leash and grabbed the cuffs on his wrist while he fought and struggled.  Q was dimly aware that there were a number of people watching but he couldn’t process that, he was all instinct and fear. Something was pulled over his head and then he was picked up and carried onto a plane…

He ended up curled tightly into a seat, whimpering, as the blanket? Bag? Was pulled off his head.  He couldn’t focus–contacts or no contacts–and kept trying to find a way to escape, to hide… eventually Janus pulled him over and wrapped an arm around him tightly: it helped a little.

People spoke around him, mostly in Russian, as the sound of an airplane taxiing for take-off turned into a roaring in his ears and then…

“Here Kitten, swallow this.” Janus pressed something to his mouth and he gratefully took the pills: pink, white, blue–he didn’t care.

Janus pulled him in tight against his body and let him shiver.

“I didn’t know you were so afraid of planes, Kitten.”

“I’m… always… sedated… if I have to…” Q panted and tried to calm himself–the only thing that helped was burrowing into Janus and his strong arm holding him. “It’s… not normally this bad…”

“All the other things then?”

“Might… be the drugs… or the whole… being kidnapped and sold…. They told me they… were putting me on a plane… the first time I took their pills.” He couldn’t stop shivering.

Some more conversations happened around him in Russian–he was fairly certain some of them were ribald– as he slowly calmed… and then… slipped into unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after the airplane...  
> Q and Janus are at a meeting, and no one can be trusted.

Q woke up warm, and tightly wrapped in blankets.  It wasn’t until he tried to move that he realized there was something wrong…

“Mmmph?” Q forced his eyes open.

“Kotyonok?” A blur moved over to him, “You are restrained and gagged, Kitten, if you are actually awake this time I can untie you.” And then Janus slid his glasses onto him.

He looked around very warily, but the room looked like a hotel room, not a plane… he nodded slowly.  Janus pulled the gag and gave him a few sips of water.

“What happened?” Q wanted to ask so much more but he had no idea how secure the room was.

“You panicked over the plane, and then had a reaction of some kind to the sedative I gave you…” Janus started petting his hair back and stroking down his–naked–body as he unwrapped him from the blankets. “On the plus side you were singing again, on the down side… I did need to sleep.”

“I honestly don’t remember that.”

“You also bit several people.”

“I definitely don’t remember that.”

“In addition, I think a few of the guards are impressed by your command of swear words…” Janus smirked, “I suspect a few are things you have said to agents you used to work with…”

Janus took his arms out of the–quite comfortable–restraints and Q covered his face, “I… really don’t remember any of it.”

“You were singing in what I THINK was Korean at one point…” Janus undid his legs and started rubbing circulation back into them, not that it was needed.

“K-pop songs probably,” Q winced and then, “Ooooh….” As his leg muscle apparently melted.

“Poor Kitten, no one taking care of you…” Janus started getting a bit more explicit with the massage, and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “We are probably not bugged, but it can be difficult to be certain, and the walls are not thick.”

“I… don’t remember much after…” Q meant to say something but then Janus was making it hard to think and he decided it would wait.

Q pushed gently against him–not struggling, just directing– and Janus stopped what he was doing and moved, looking at him in some confusion.  _It was a bit like the light touch on a perfectly balanced door moving a weight that simply couldn’t be pushed by brute force_ , Q thought, and then he  put his glasses off to the side and slid down the man’s body.

He owed him, after all, for the gentleness, and the comfort… and it was well past time he returned some of the pleasure–not that he’d been complaining, but still…

Janus’s eyes widened and he said something in Russian–colloquial probably, Q didn’t understand it– and then his fingers were in Q’s hair.

Janus was apparently not long out of the shower, and he mostly smelled clean–a distinct improvement over some of Q’s experiences with giving oral. Q enjoyed immensely reducing the man to gasps and curses–some of those words were swearing anyway: given that he’d spent the last several days alternately panicking and moaning? It was a bit of an ego salve to return the favor.

Janus wasn’t entirely out of it–and proved that he and James must have far too many of the same reflexes– because at about the same time that Q heard a door opening, and noticed the light shifting, Janus somehow had a gun in hand.

“{I came to check–} Don’t shoot!” a man Q had not seen before had walked in casually and then froze with his hands going up. Q was so startled that it took him several beats to realize the man had switched to English under stress.

Janus slowly lowered his gun, “Are you DAFT?!”

The man sagged into the door frame, “Apparently?”

Janus looked down, “Don’t let him disturb you… by all means…” and gestured with the gun for Q to continue.

 _Wonderful, not only do I have to do this in public, but I have to pretend to be doing it at gunpoint?_ Q dryly compared the man’s reactions to James again–he hadn’t lost an iota of interest– and went back to work. Janus, thankfully, didn’t brandish the gun at him any further… just groaned and dug his free hand into Q’s hair.  He definitely remembered how much Q liked his hair pulled– _damn it_.

It was also a surprising turn on to be watched… and apparently forced… without actually BEING forced… _I’m going to have to see a counselor when this is all over_.  As he swallowed around Janus and heard him say something unintelligible that sounded awed he couldn’t help but be a bit smug…

_Counseling… lots and lots of counseling…_

Janus came with a final tug on Q’s hair and a low pitched groan. Q carefully cleaned him up with his tongue, and judging from the faint moan the audience had enjoyed it as well.

Janus’ hand was petting through Q’s hair, and then Janus pulled him up and started doing THINGS to his neck again… “A kitten of many talents…”

The other man cleared his throat, “I heard he bites?”

“He hasn’t bitten me…” Janus laughed. “Now why did you try to get yourself shot, Hmm?”

“We had a security breach and I came to check on you,” the man sighed, “I uh… wasn’t thinking you would be… busy.”

“What kind of security breach?”

“Computer, actually… um… isn’t… your… uh…”

“Kotyonok.” Janus grinned, “Such a clever kitten… a computer breach you say? Well it wasn’t my kitten’s fault, but perhaps he can help solve it.”

“I… would actually have to get near a computer, you know, for that…” Q tried to keep his voice level, but he rather expected it failed.

“True.” Janus pulled his head back by his hair–again–“so surely you are going to be a GOOD Kitten, yes?”

“Yes, sir.” Q kept his hands down at his sides… he wasn’t certain if he should be struggling or… not.

“Give me a minute to get us both dressed and I’ll bring him down to the computer rooms.”

“…Right…” the man walked out, a bit unsteadily… with a hard-on.

Janus chuckled, “well you certainly make an impression… and … obviously I had no idea of your other talents…”

“It’s been a long time,” Q muttered, and then quietly, “But I thought I could return the favor…”

“You… how am I ever going to let you go?” Janus sighed quietly, “I miss having people I could trust not to stab me in the back–in or out of bed.” he shook his head, “Well, Greg is likely to tell everyone I have you well in hand, and to expect us down soon… so no time like the present to show off your OTHER skills, eh?”

Janus dragged them both into a shower, but for once he was being quick and professional about it.

“Do… do you think the security breach had anything to do with England, or …my kidnapping?” Q asked as he toweled off.

“Possibly, but as I said,” Janus was getting dressed quickly and efficiently, and securing a number of weapons, “There are people we know of within the British government–officially within it– that are in fact acting against their interests: one of the foremost of those is the Nine Eyes program.”

“Wait, I had… heard of that?  I was supposed to be meeting with someone to talk about working on it…”

“It’s a weapon of Spectre’s.”

“What?… but…” _Bond was investigating them…_

“Anyone working with the Nine Eyes program is either Spectre, or a dupe of theirs.” Janus sighed, “My group was… associated with Spectre.  Very quickly, then: officially I am part of a Russian group that works with and under Spectre; unofficially we are trying to take over Spectre–we don’t like being run; VERY unofficially I am trying to take over our group, and become the leader, removing the competition.” He sighed, “So that’s three directions of spies and loyalties right there…”

“Ouch… and that explains why you were being spied on.”

“Some of them work for Spectre, trying to keep us in line–some work for my colleagues, trying to keep ME in line, or remove me.”

“And Greg?”

“Works for three different groups at once: the Russian mob, my associates–which touches on Russian intelligence as well– and he is also a CIA agent.” Janus shrugged, “American born Russian…”

“Where do his loyalties actually lie?”

“Who knows?  I’m not sure HE knows… but he’s a fun man to go drinking with.”

“Lovely… I know some CIA people…if I could get word to them…”

“If he gets word to them, fine, but you will do nothing to risk either of our stories.”

“Ah... yes of course.”

“Now let’s get you some food and then to the computers.”

…

Everyone was watching him as he was walked into the room–on a leash, yes, but at least dressed in something approximating street clothes. Q did his best to scan the room while keeping his head down–now that he wasn’t high on drugs he would be able to  remember every face.  Unfortunately he recognized two of the attendees as people who were dealt with on official matters of government–one American, one German. _Were they here as agents? Undercover? Or were they problems…_ he didn’t know, and he couldn’t take a chance.

“So… I have a new pet… I take it rumors have run ahead of me?” Janus walked in casually and made his way to one of the chairs. There was a cushion next to it and he gestured to it, and tugged on the leash when Q didn’t immediately get the point.  Q could feel the flush heating his face but he kept his head down and folded himself onto the cushion.

 Janus sat down and started stroking Q’s hair reassuringly… and damn it, it was reassuring… and Q realized an advantage: as long as his head was down near Janus’ leg, and under the level of the table, he could hear everything… but no one could watch his expression.

“I had understood your new acquisition was some sort of MI6 computer expert?”  _French accent? No not quite…_

“He was… now he is my computer expert.” Janus said calmly, “As well as excellent entertainment.”

“I hear he bites.” The voice was not quite Russian, but… _one of the satellite states?_ Q cursed the fact that he couldn’t identify the accent.

“Well as I told Gregor; he hasn’t bitten ME, but he has more sense and I have more control–however yes, he has bitten several other people.” Janus sounded more amused than upset.

“He is going to be at the meeting? Isn’t that a security issue?” that voice was American– _possibly the known person, but maybe not._

“I had been told there was a computer problem–I thought it would be an ideal time to test his skills.”

“Can he be trusted that far?”

“Of course…” he reached down and hauled Q upright by his hair–gently, but none of them would see that. “My Kitten wouldn’t DREAM of upsetting me, would you Kotyonok?”

“N-no sir…” Q had tears in his eyes: between the tension on his scalp and the tension from being here, it wasn’t difficult.

Janus let go of his hair and stroked over his cheek and under his chin–Q closed his eyes to avoid letting them see the lack of fear and bit his lip.  Janus pushed his head back down to his leg.

“If he’s that well trained already, perhaps you can loan him out.” Someone said and Q went tense.

“Well as was said: he bites other people,” Janus chuckled, “Besides, why would I risk someone teaching him bad habits? So? He’ll need access to a computer…”

After some more argument Janus led him to another room, where two or three of their computer people were told to watch everything he did.

Janus put a hand on the back of his neck, “Now Q… don’t embarrass me after I spoke so HIGHLY of how sensible you were…” the hand on his neck  flexed in a way that anyone could see–but it flexed against the solid steel collar.  Q hadn’t realized the advantage of essentially wearing neck armor.

When Janus took his hand away he set to work.  He left the first observer behind somewhere in the cloud, and lost the second as he danced his way through their systems.

“He’s… beyond my ability to follow at speed, sir.” One of them was saying, “You should stop him: we won’t know what he’s done until it’s too late.”

Janus was chuckling and calling them incompetents.

Q ignored them and found the problem. “There, sir: someone slipped an access code into this server–”he tapped on the screen.  “It’s still a tricky access from outside, so either you have a mole inside with access to the computers, or you have someone REALLY good on the outside.”

Janus stroked his hair and leaned forward next to him. “Good Kitten… Find the outside contact.”

“Yes, sir.” Q vanished into the code.  After a while he forgot about the observers entirely, forgot where he was, he was simply hunting: cat and mouse in the digital world, and he was the cat. He distantly heard a scuffle, but that was for other people to deal with…

“I have them.” He said after he was certain he had gone through to the actual source. “It’s someone in Germany using a proxy computer in England… I have the address that is attached to that computer, but it may not be entirely accurate.” 

“Good…” Janus was petting his neck, “I trust everyone understands that computer locations are tentative at best…who is the computer registered to?”

Q read off the company name, and then the individual license holder on some of the software, “No guarantee that’s who was using it, but they were physically on location at that computer when the security was breached.”

“And the English proxy?”

“A server bank outside of London–hacked: they were never physically there.” Q hesitated, “Or at least they didn’t need to be–it would be somewhat easier if they had a person on the inside.”

He was gently pulled out of the chair. “That’s a very good job, Kitten, but now it’s time to eat.”

Q blinked and looked around in some confusion–only half the people were still here, and one of the computer experts was… on the floor in cuffs.

Janus simply pulled him along until he followed.  “You do certainly get absorbed in your work, Kitten.”

“Err… yes sir… I … always have.”

“One of our computer people tried to stop you when it became obvious you had found the access–you never even looked up.”

“Oh… is that what the noise was?”

Janus chuckled and took him back to their room.  He started to put him down on a cushion and then shrugged, “You are the expert, Kitten: if there are bugs here I want them found.”

“It would be… easier with electronics…”

“I’m certain it would–do without.”

Q began a methodical search, and found three–he was fairly certain Janus had seen the one before he got to it, but his expression at the other two was impressed, and unhappy.

“How rude.” He murmured as Q handed him the electronics.  He called someone and handed the bugs to a man–Q could hear the tone of voice but not details– and came back in.

“You should change into something much more attractive, hmm? And I will get into something more relaxed–I’ve arranged for room service.” He laid out some of the items that Q thought of as ‘restraints and a bit of cloth’.

Q didn’t really want to change out of his actual clothing, but… at least this outfit covered *something*.

Janus changed into something like pajamas and went back out to the sitting room, sat down on the sofa and pulled Q in against him.  It wasn’t anything to show off, or make an impression; he was just idly running his hand over Q’s side… it was comfortable, and comforting.

“What will happen to the fellow who…”

Janus patted Q’s hip gently, “Someone will interrogate him and find out who he works for, and if he planted the access codes.”

Q sighed and began to worry that he might possibly have outed an ally, but… from what Janus said there were plenty of options that were problems…

Food was delivered: it was on a cooking cart and quite hot. After the waiter left Janus smiled, “Hot food is much more difficult to poison.”

Q checked the table and equipment and declared that it wasn’t bugged, “unless they built it into something… I can’t check that without tools.”

“And who would give you electronics when you have so many other skills at home?” Janus said and then started portioning out food for them both.  As he was– _Damn it_ – hand feeding Q bites of food he quietly said, “I will try to get you something, but not during this meeting.” And then added more normally, “I don’t think they fed you enough before I bought you…”

“I have no idea, I mostly remember… blurs and drugs and… I’m pretty sure I threw up on someone… and singing Tom Lehrer with someone–a different someone I think.”

“Well your singing was definitely on display… although I don’t think that was Tom Lehrer.”

“What WAS I singing?”

Janus chuckled and started singing “A buck a yen a mark or a pound…”  his voice wasn’t suited to the song, but it wasn’t bad.

“Oh… right… because of the bids…”

Janus finished feeding him and then… “Do you have any shows you like?  The hotel has movies and television–I don’t normally bother when I have company, but…”

“Could I see the news?  Or failing that… Doctor Who?”

Janus fumbled with the controller until finally Q took it away from him in desperation. “Damn it, do none of you have electronics at home?”

Janus leaned into him and kissed his ear, and quietly, over the sound of the television, “James and I usually had other things to do in hotels…”

It was very difficult to watch ANYTHING with Janus… doing things… but he got a good look at the news, and most of an episode of Doctor Who before Janus scooped Q up off the sofa. “Time for bed for little Kittens…”

They didn’t get to sleep for quite a while…


End file.
